Roses
by zeldalookslonely
Summary: It happens like this: she brings him coffee.
1. Chapter 1

It happens like this: she brings him coffee. And it's not a _thing_, because she brings coffee for the whole study group, but she hands him a cup and her eyes flit over him with a smile, a slightly preoccupied smile, and it's the same smile she gives Troy and Shirley and everyone else, and he doesn't like it.

It happens like this: Annie throws Jeff a smile over a coffee cup, and he considers falling at her feet and begging for her mercy, because all his protective layers have suddenly fled, vanished in an instant, and here he is. Just him. And here's the thing: the layers _are _him, the layer _make _him. Just him, just what's inside, has never done anyone much good.

Britta is talking about her cat and Britta is getting the real Annie smile, so he says, "Should we get on with studying?" and it's a test and Annie holds up her hand and says "One minute," and she doesn't even glance at him, and she's passed the test but not in a good way.

Well, not for him. Good for her, though. Good for her. Right? Right. So, he gets through the day and he goes home, and he works out, and he eats a three hundred calorie salad for dinner, and he stares at the phone. Because he's been _off _all day, and when he's like that she'll call, and she'll say, "I just wanted to make sure everything's okay," and he says, "What could possibly be wrong with me?" and he can hear her roll her eyes over the phone and she has this laugh, something between a chuckle and a giggle, and he likes to hear it, no idea why, it's just nice. Sometimes she says, "Would you like me to drop by?" and he thinks, _sure, why not, yes, please, God, please_, but he says, "Jeff Winger needs no man, Annie. Jeff Winger is an island." Then she laughs at him, and sometimes she says, "You should get a dog for company," or "Fine, wanna watch Criminal Minds together on the phone? It freaks me out," but the last time she said, "You'll never change, Jeff," and there was fondness there, sure, but also resignation and maybe realization, and he tried not to think about it because he didn't want to think about it, so he didn't think about it, because he is _so good _at not thinking about things.

Anyway, she doesn't call.

He does this thing sometimes, where he drinks bottle after bottle of water, drinks and drinks until he feels sick. It feels terrible and nice, like everything.

He calls her because why not.

She says, "Jeff? It's four in the morning. It's Saturday," and her voice is scratchy with sleep and he laughs silently to hear it because it's a new thing about her, her voice in the middle of the night, and she told him that she switches her cell phone to silent at night, except for family, and she answered, and it's the middle of the night.

"Jeff? I can hear you breathing."

He doesn't say anything because what is there to say?

"Have you been drinking?" she asks.

"Just water," he says, "just some water."

"Water," she says.

"Just water."

He can hear her sitting up in her bed, so he can close his eyes and think of her in her bed. He wonders what she's wearing. "What are you wearing?"

She doesn't laugh. "Sweats."

"Annie..."

"I'm awfully tired," she says, and yeah, maybe he's not the most astute, but even he can read the subtext there.

"I know," he says, "I know."

She sighs. "Do you want a bagel?"

He says, "I want to watch you eat a bagel," and he thinks it might mean something close to _I love you_ or _you're a person I need in my life_ or _I like your shiny hair_.

She says, "Then bring me a bagel."

He brings a dozen. But when he opens the door (left unlocked for him, he supposes) to Annie and Troy and Abed's apartment, the only light comes from the flickering of the television. And Annie is curled up in an impossibly small ball in Abed's armchair.

He tries to sit quietly in the chair next to her, but she must hear him because she sits bolt upright and gasps out loud.

"It's me," says Jeff, "relax, it's just me."

"Pierce does this," she says, abruptly.

"Does what?"

"Calls me in the middle of the night when he wants attention. I make him bring food, too."

Jeff feels something unpleasant bubble up in his stomach. He watches Annie shove a lock of hair (_still shiny_) out of her face and she rubs her eyes with the back of her hand and she yawns widely and it's all too much, it's too much.

"You look panicked," she says.

He nods.

"Okay," she says, "all right. Come with me." She leads him by the hand to her bedroom. "Stand still." She unbuttons his shirt, slowly, and she's looking up at him with wide eyes and a small smile.

"Annie..." he says.

She grins. "Calm down. The shirt is coming off but the pants stay on. You're tired."

"I _am _tired," he says, because yeah, he hasn't clocked much sleep lately but it's never really registered because it happens so often.

"I know," Annie says, and climbs into bed. She holds up the covers and gestures for him to follow. So he does.

He can hear her breathing next to him.

"Jeff?"

He turns to face her and she scoots closer, so their heads are resting on the same pillow and he can feel her breath on his face. "Yeah?"

"You don't have to stay awake all night just because you're tired. You don't have to fight everything."

He nods and it brings his face infinitesimally closer to hers, and nothing has really changed, not really, but everything feels different. He reaches to grip her hip under the covers and he thinks he'll say _I love you _or _I like you _or _thank you _but before he can say anything, she giggles. She wiggles closer and wraps his arm around her body. "Pierce also likes to cuddle when he's sad," she says into his chest, and yeah, this is friends-sleeping-in-the-same-bed and yeah, she does this all the time, apparently. He wonders if Abed likes to cuddle.

"Good night, Jeff," she murmurs, and he can feel her eyelids flutter against his chest and he opens his mouth but he doesn't say anything. He doesn't say anything at all.


	2. Chapter 2

"Jeff," Annie is whispering, "Jeff, Jeff," and he wakes up, only a little, only one eye open, and he looks at her.

"Annie?"

"If you want to get out of here without Troy and Abed seeing you, you'll have to go now or stay 'till they leave for their movie." She's wide-eyed and earnest, and she's so sure he'll want to take off on her that he's hit with a perverse desire to do the exact opposite.

"Mm," he murmurs, and tugs her closer, presses their still-mostly-clothed bodies together. She's sun-warmed and glowing and this feels like a _moment; _Jeff likes moments, moments that seem so beautiful before they're forced to form a big, messy whole. "Sleep, Annie," he says, and she seems to acquiesce with a nod and a sigh. He can feel her breath on his neck and his hand is tangled in her hair and he thinks, _if I didn't love her, we'd be in a _relationship _right now_.

But he does; they're not, so he can relax into this; he can rub a strand of her hair between two fingers and let her soft breathing lull him back into sleep.

He wakes up alone, which seems about right.

He leaves the shirt off and goes looking for Annie, and it's not like he's _displeased _that she abandoned him, but yeah, maybe he's a little _surprised _that he had to wake up without her. He wonders if he should leave, but when he finds her, surrounded by open books at the dining table, she glances up at him and her eyes rake over his chest and there's a light blush on cheeks so he can relax and smirk at her.

"Annie."

"Jeff," she says, shaking her head, "do you want a bagel? I took credit for them, by the way."

He shakes his head. "Troy and Abed?"

"At the movies. They'll be there for hours. Look!" she waves at the table, "I get alone time to study!"

"Annie," he says, with raised eyebrows and mock severity, "Annie, Annie, Annie. You can't spend your Saturday _studying_."

"Ah, but I can. And I have, and I will."

"_Or_, you can let me convince you that we should do something more fun."

Her eyes go wide again and she frowns at him with what he suddenly realizes is surprised concern. "Jeff..." she says, and he can hear the worry but detects no pity, so he pushes on.

"Come on. What do you want to do today? Lady's choice."

She glances to her books then back at him, and he thinks she's trying to make it look like she's grappling with the decision even though they both know she's hooked. "_Anything_ I want?" she asks.

This is how he ends up at a picnic table in a park on a lake he didn't even know existed. Annie unpacks her small picnic basket (because _of course _she has a picnic basket) and describes each sandwich even though they're clearly labeled.

"My mother used to bring me here, before..." she trails off and waves her hand, brushing over the past with a smile and taking a bite of her sandwich. She pushes something disgusting involving mayonnaise and potato chips at him and he looks at her and she grins. "Anything I want, remember?"

So they sit and she forces him to eat many calories but it feels okay and at least she's looking at him again, really looking at him, and sometimes it feels like he would do anything to keep her gaze trained on him and-

"Why don't you date?" he asks, because she's sitting there with the sun on her face and the question has been banging around in his head for longer than he likes to admit, and maybe, if she says what she might say, he might be able to say-

"I do," she says, with a shrug and light blush. She traces a finger over the rough wood of the picnic table and glances over at him. "I actually just-"

"Met someone?"

"Broke up with someone," she says, and he doesn't know if he's upset or relieved, but his heart is pounding and-

"Wait," he says, "there's no way. We'd know, the group would know. You have roommates. You kept a secret boyfriend from Abed? _Abed_?"

She laughs. "I tried, at first. They confronted me about three seconds after the first date. We had a big fight."

"And what happened?"

"I said I _had _to hide my dates because I couldn't trust them to keep my secrets. So we wrote up a Binding Roommate Agreement."

"What?"

"A BRA. We agreed to six months. Relationship secrets don't leave the apartment until the relationship in question is six months old. It was a tough battle. Abed wanted three months."

Jeff shakes his head. "And that really works? You never tell on each other?"

"Binding Roommate Agreements are _sacred_, Jeff. We had a BRA ceremony and everything. There are serious penalties for violating it."

"You had a bra ceremony," he repeats, and she laughs while he stares unseeingly at the lake, trying to gather his thoughts. "What was his name? How long were you...?"

"Toby. Four months."

"_Four_ months? You had a boyfriend for four months and you didn't tell- anyone?"

"It was- I mean- I wanted to make sure he was the right guy. Before I told anyone."

"And he wasn't?"

"No. But he was great. He was really great." She smiles wistfully. "He brought me flowers. Roses. All the time. He'd always replace a bouquet before it died."

Jeff tries to swallow but his mouth is so dry. "So what happened?"

She shifts in her seat. "It was great. But it was never- right. We'd lay in bed together and sometimes everything just seemed _off_. It felt like he was breathing all my air."

He nods and they sit in silence until he covers her hand with his own. "I bought you a rose, once. Months ago. Maybe a year. One pink rose. It reminded me of you."

She doesn't look at him but her fingers twine through his and she says, "You never gave it to me."

"I know."

"So what happened to it?"

"I left it on my kitchen counter," he says. "I watched it die."

She yanks her hand away and he thinks she's probably angry but she's laughing, she's doubled over, her face is turning bright red and her hand is pressed to her mouth in a futile attempt to suppress her laughter. "Jeff," she gasps, "when you do a thing, you certainly do it properly."

He stares at her and he thinks, _I'm sorry _or maybe _I don't always know why I do the things I do_, but what he says is, "Do you still think about it? Us?"

"Oh," she says, and she's still breathless from laughter but now she's frowning at him thoughtfully.

"Never mind," he says. "None of my business."

"No. You can know. It's just- sometimes I do think about it. Sometimes I think it would be nice, you know? I do like you, of course, despite- well, you know. But it's not something you have to worry about."

"Worry about?"

"I really value our friendship, Jeff. I would never ruin it by forcing something else that probably wouldn't work out anyway. It's not worth it. It wouldn't be worth it. Do you understand?" She's staring at him and he can see the _this is important _in her eyes so he nods.

"I understand," he says, and it feels like an ending.

So, he takes her home. She holds her picnic basket and she's all smiles, and she's talking but he can't hear what she's saying because all he can hear is _I do think about it _and _I do like you _and the look on her face. He drops her off at her apartment and she says, "Bye, Jeff," and she squeezes his hand and she walks away and _I do like you _and _you don't have to fight everything_. He realizes he's been sitting in his car outside of her apartment building for an hour and _I do like you_ and _do you understand _and _it's not worth it_.

"Shit," he says, "oh shit, oh," and he's out of the car and running up stairs because it's time, it's been time, _oh shit_, maybe he's missed it. He pounds on her door and he thinks _I should have gotten her another flower_ when Abed opens the door.

"Jeff?"

"Annie! I need to talk to Annie."

Abed moves to one side and Jeff walks in the apartment and Troy walks out of his bedroom and Annie emerges from the bathroom, dripping wet and wrapped up in a terrycloth robe that looks like it's a hundred years old, and time has stopped and everything is happening at once.

"Annie," he says, "Annie, Annie, oh. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry," and he's touching her face with his fingertips, with his lips, kissing her cheeks and eyelids and wet hair and fingers and wrists. "I'm sorry," he breathes, "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, of course it's worth it, you're worth it, you're-"

"Jeff?" she says, like she's confused but she raises a hand to cup his cheek and she's kissing him, _she's kissing him_, and he makes a noise he doesn't really recognize and then she's grinning at him, looking up and grinning at him and her hand drops to his neck and he pulls her closer.

"I should have gotten you flowers," he says, kissing her hair, "Or jewelry! Flower shaped jewelry. I should have done that."

"Yes," says Abed, "that would have made this better."

Troy nods solemnly. "And maybe Annie should be wearing something different."

Annie laughs into his chest and Jeff says, "I like what you're wearing," and the obvious longing is a little embarrassing and it's something he usually works to keep inside but maybe he doesn't have to now, maybe he can relax a little now.

Annie's blushing and smiling and she looks and him and she whispers, "Thank you," and it feels like a beginning.


End file.
